Kingdom Takeover
by GiantCrab
Summary: A story of the dethroning of King Trode and the takeover of the jester Dhoulmagus.


"Run! He's too powerful!" yelled King Trode to his daughter.

"No! I won't leave you here!" the Princess Medea replied.

Dhoulmagus bellowed with laughter "Mwahahaha! Bwahahaha! Gwahahaha! Both of you have absolutely no chance. With this almighty scepter passed down through the ages, I have endless power! Endless!"

With that, Dhoulmagus waved his scepter. The walls began to shake, as if an earthquake was occurring. But it was no earthquake. Enormous vines broke through the stone walls of the throne room, eerily slithering along the floor toward Dhoulmagus. They began to intertwine, forming a semblance of a chair. He strutted arrogantly toward the vines, and lounged in the rather odd piece of furniture.

"Who's king now?" Dhoulmagus stated tauntingly.

King Trode was bewildered. Yesterday, he had been performing his usually kingly duties: Listening to his people's requests, signing royal documents, and eating gourmet food. Sigh, he would miss that food. But Trode was a good king, why would his court jester even fathom doing this? He had raised Dhoulmagus since he was a child, and had given him a place at his side as a jester. Jolly, jumpy, jocular Jack he had affectionately called him.

Trode inquired, "Why are you doing this Dhoulmagus? I've done nothing but help you your entire life!"

Dhoulmagus grimaced, "Help me? I've been humiliated every day doing parlor tricks for you. Acrobatic flips, bad jokes: I'm tired of doing it all. I've tired of amusing your friends, and I'm especially tired of amusing you. So, now that I have the ancient scepter, you'll have to amuse me." He glanced at the princess lustfully, "Especially you princess." He winked.

"I would rather kiss a slime," she said coldly.

"But how did you get past the newly installed castle security system?" Trode asked, still hardly believing all of this.

Dhoulmagus gloated, "Being a jester has its advantages. An acrobatic flip here, a swift jump there, and a couple of well performed dance moves, and the scepter was mine. Simple, really."

That stupid oracle had told Trode all of this would happen. The king was not a big believer of those peculiar divination people, so he had done nothing to prepare. The oracle had shakily said "Prepare for your doom!" but King Trode gave absolutely no thought to the idea. She had also mentioned something about crossing paths with a "hero" but he could hardly accept that a kid who wears a red do-rag is a hero.

Well, none of that mattered now. Trode needed to discover a path out of this mess. But Dhoulmagus had the magical scepter! And he had to get Medea out of here too. He had only one option. Attack.

King Trode swiftly pulled a dagger from his shoe and threw it at Dhoulmagus. The blade sailed through the air, searching for its target. Suddenly, Trode looked on in horror. As the dagger approached the jester, the king heard the sounds of cracking. Before the knife had even gotten within a foot of the Dhoulmagus, it had shattered and turned to dust. The vines began to move once more, and bound the legs and hands of both Trode and Princess Medea within moments.

The jester laughed with glee: "Fwahaha! You think you can slay the mighty Dhoulmagus with a mere dagger? Now, you've gotten yourself all tied up." He grinned at Medea, "But if the dear princess decides to feel a bit differently about me…."

Medea glowered, "Never, you stuck up, half-witted, scruffy looking slime-herder!" She spat in his face.

Dhoulmagus' grin slowly turned to a scowl. Wiping the spit off his face, he said, "If I can't have you, then no one will! Your beauty is no more!" He spun the scepter and began an incantation.

Medea shrieked in terror, "Father! Wha-what's hap-en……neigh." As quickly as she had spit in the jester's face, she had transformed into a horse!

Trode yelled in anger, "Why….why you…How dare you!"

"Oh don't worry, I've got something better for you," Dhoulmagus replied.

After drawing a circle around the king with his scepter, he began a chant, suddenly banging the golden rod on the floor with a guttural scream.

"You'll pay for what you've done! I won't let – AUGGGGGGGGH," the king screamed in agony.

In the place of the once handsome king remained a short, green creature. Trode was shocked to silence.

The jester said with amusement: "I won't kill you because I find you roaming around the country as a little green thing with that horse of a daughter very…amusing. Now, go! The more people that run away in terror from you, the better."

King Trode had no other choice. There was only one task left to him. He knew he must find the "hero." Scrounging up a wagon, he tied Medea to it. Throwing his hood over his head, he began his long journey, all the while searching for the kid with a red do-rag.


End file.
